House Cats
by MLS1984
Summary: House gets a big surprise on his birthday...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Doctor-"

"No."

"Doctor Hou-"

"**No."**

As the chubby, middle-aged house frau continued to chase Doctor House through the hallway, he stopped, and whirled on her; agitated. Indignantly, he growled, "Doctor House no esta aqui!" Then he dove into his office and slammed the door in her face.

Closing the shades, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He had hoped that his t-shirt would get his point across. Black, with red lettering, it declared, _I do not discriminate. I hate everyone._

_(For God's sake, it's my birthday- dammit! Damn that Cuddy for sticking me with clinic duty! And damn that-)_

"Mraow?"

_(Yep. Damn that mraow- what?)_

Confused, House opened his eyes. Where had that noise come from?

"Mraow." It repeated.

He looked around, but couldn't find the source.

"Mraow!" It was getting louder. It sounded almost... **pissed**?

Since no one was there to see, he allowed a worried expression to creep onto his face. Had he finally gone insane? He checked his pockets, wondering if he had ODed.

"Mraow!" It had suddenly become a chorus of tiny voices.

And that's when he noticed it behind his desk.

A playpen. Lined with blue plastic. It had a red ribbon stuck to it.

Like a blond bim in a low-budget horror movie; House edged up to the playpen with trepidation. He peered inside and felt himself quickly blanch.

Ten golden eyes and two green ones peered back up at him

There. Were. Kittens. In. His. Office.

_**Six. Kittens. **_

_**His. OFFICE.**_

That's when he saw the tag tied to the playpen.

_Happy Birthday Doctor House!_ It sang. It was also unsigned.

_(Heads will roll...**literally.**)_ He thought acidly.

And he had an idea about whose pretty neck should go on the block first.

&&&&&&

Nurse Black had been stationed outside Doctor House's office since 'Day Damn One'; as the nursing staff had come to call it, so she had become pretty desensitized to the big geek's tantrums.

Or so she thought.

The roar of sheer fury that exploded from House's office damned near made her wet her pants in surprise.

"**CAMERON!"**

Nurse Black had no idea how she had incurred House's wrath, but she fervently hoped that Doctor Cameron was taking a sick day.

&&&&&&

Cameron turned from her prescription pad, and handed the sheet to the woman on the exam table.

"These are just some prenatal vitamins. It's a standard thing, but it's like a bonus treat for your-"

"**CAMERON- dammit!"** The bellow was so loud that she felt it vibrate down her spine.

Cameron winced. _(Great, what'd I do?)_

"Cameron! Get your ass over here!" House's bellow was getting steadily closer.

_(Oh... crap)_

With an apologetic smile to the patient, she dashed out of the clinic, hoping to intercept House before he scared off all of the patients.

Cussing softly to herself, she jogged out the door. Even now, she wondered why she found House so damned attractive.

He was such a pain in the ass.

&&&&&&

Just as Cameron popped out of the clinic, House seized her by her irritatingly dainty wrist, and started almost dragging her skinny butt to the elevator.

He restrained himself from shoving her in, but when the doors closed, he advanced on her. "What the **hell** was going through your teeny-tiny brain?" he demanded.

She just looked at him.

"Don't give me Bambi-eyes!" he snapped; dripping sarcasm.

The doors opened, and House stomped out. Cameron followed close behind.

"This isn't funny. At all." He sniped. Then, for good measure, he added under his breath. "You moron."

Cameron just continued to stare blankly at him

"Quit staring vacantly at me!"

"I would if you'd tell me what's going on!" she snapped. She was usually a softie, but Doctor Cameron could give as good as she got if need be.

As they entered House's office; they both stopped dead in their tracks.

At some point; Wilson, Foreman, Chase, and even Cuddy had managed to wander in. They were all seated around the playpen. They each held a kitten in their arms and didn't seem to notice House and Cameron's entrance.

Cuddy, in particular, was acting unbelievably freakishly. She held the lone green-eyed kitten in her arms. It had thick, pure white fur, and looked like the kind of kitten depicted on a greeting card with fluffy angel wings.

"Ooh's a widdle oochums?" she cooed. The kitten glared up at her. "Is it ooh? Is it ooh? I think it is!" The kitten made a noise low in it's throat. The more Cuddy cooed at it, the more it looked pained. It started to growl in a tiny, kitten voice.

In that moment, House sympathized with the little hairball's dilemma.

Unknowingly making himself a feline friend for life, he mocked. "Good **God**, Cuddy. Just when I'd thought I'd seen the scary side of you: **this** emerges. I mean, geez," he shook his head in shock, "this is seriously horrifying."

**: Author's Notes : Okay, so... how's it going? I know it's a little short, but I wanted to post this while I actually had the chance to do so.**

**Please, oh great and powerful House-fans, review?**

**: Next Chapter : Getting to know the House Cats.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Cuddy blushed furiously, and as she looked up, she realized House, Cameron, Chase, Foreman, and Wilson were gaping at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

She scratched the white kitten under it's chin. It growled miserably, but it grudgingly tilted it's head towards Cuddy's fingers.

They all just continued to stare at her.

Embarrassed, she huffed. "So I'm a cat-person: so what?"

Chase was cuddling the smallest of the litter; a tiny female calico. It was stretched out across his arm; it's tiny face burrowed into Chase's side. It was clearly sound asleep.

Softly, Chase said, "Well, Doctor Cuddy-"

"Oh, for crap's sake, Chase- it's not a baby! You don't need to use your inside voice!" House bellowed.

The gray tabby in Wilson's lap watched the room alertly as he spoke up. "Oh, come on House, you know you want to cuddle one." he teased.

Offended, House gasped. "Do **NOT!**" Then his gaze fell on Cameron as she strolled over to the playpen, and scooped up the two remaining balls of fluff.

House tried to fend her off- seriously contemplating fleeing for the hills- but she managed to get what seemed like a wad of black fur into his arms. The creature had curled into a ball like an armadillo.

Apparently realizing that it had been moved, it unfurled itself. It was all black- except for it's right ear- which was just as white as it's surly litter mate's. It was female too, and it looked up at House with it's yellow eyes. It seemed to be surveying him.

"Meow." It declared.

House glared down at it.

Unimpressed, the kitten coughed up a hairball onto his smart-ass t-shirt.

"Oh, for the love of-!"

"Come on, House." Cameron interrupted him before he could turn his fuzzy charge into a mitten. "These kittens can't be more than two months old. They're babies, and babies spit up!" To House's unending horror, he saw that Cameron had scooped up the final kitten from the playpen. Her orange tabby began to purr thunderously; cuddling into her neck. She smiled at it as it began to rub it's head against her cheek.

He suddenly realized that while this exchange had been going on, he had been sitting at his desk, the kitten bouncing back and forth on his legs. He had unknowingly been scratching it along it's spine.

Jerking his hand away, he glowered at the adorable- mangy, he meant mangy!- hairball once more.

She flicked her tiny tail at him dismissively, and looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with a mixture of triumph and mischief.

Suddenly, House had a minor epiphany. Looking past Cameron to the other female doctor in the room, he gave a grin of pure, evil rapture.

Her eyes widened, and she hoped he wasn't going to do what she thought he was going to do.

"Don't you **dare!**" she warned. She employed the tone that usually instilled fear into the hearts of mortal men.

House couldn't give less of a shit.

He held up the black kitten, and declared. "Say hello to 'Cuddy'."

Wilson, Cameron, Chase, and Foreman looked at Doctor Cuddy, who was positively glaring daggers at House. House grinned sunnily in return.

The kitten squirmed in House's hands, as though saying, _Uh, dude- you gonna put me down?_

He settled it back onto his lap; a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

Cuddy's kitten continued to make snippy, pissy noises from her lap.

"Hmmmm." she murmured thoughtfully. "I just thought of what to call you." she said to the white kitten. She smirked.

"House Cat."

It gave her another sour look.

Wilson and the others chuckled.

"Suits the surly little bugger perfectly." Chase commented.

"You can't do that!" House protested.

With a light giggle, Cameron teased. "Yeah, copy-cat!"

House chose to ignore Cameron. "You can't name them. They were given to me!"

"Does that mean you're keeping them?" asked Wilson.

"Hell. No."

Cameron and Foreman's beepers went off. With wistful sighs, they each stood up, and put their kittens back in the playpen. The brown brindle that Foreman was holding had settled back in quietly, but the little orange tabby that Cameron had seemed disturbed by this occurrence. He stood up on his hind legs and mewled pitifully after Cameron.

On his way out the door, Foreman commented, "You should call that one 'Chase'."

"Hey!" protested the young doctor.

"'Chase' it is!" proclaimed House.

"Hey!" Chase repeated.

"Oh, deal with it." House said, rolling his eyes.

Wilson piped up. "Hey, let's put the rest of them in there- see what happens."

Intrigued, but refusing to admit it, House started to put Cuddy Cat back in. She screeched, and nipped his fingers.

"Ow!"

"Don't you dare smack that kitten!" Cuddy warned.

House gave her a look. "I wasn't aware that was an option, but thanks anyway."

Cuddy cat settled back into House's lap; purring smugly.

Doctor Cuddy smirked at Doctor House.

"Oh, be quiet." he bitched.

She just smiled at him as she deposited House cat back into the playpen. Chase and Wilson quickly followed suit.

With morbid curiosity, the quartet observed the kittens, _(Except Cuddy cat... Dammit! Now they've got me doing it!)_ As they interacted with each other.

House cat seemed to take a special interest in the brown brindle. He would repeatedly charge into it, causing the brindle to grunt in irritation. After about five rounds of this, the brindle seemed to have enough. As House cat charged at full, ramming speed, the brindle nimbly rolled away; causing House cat to bang his head on the side of the playpen.

"Okay, in going with the theme... I say we call that one 'Wilson'." said Doctor Wilson.

"'We'. Are. Not." he winced as Cuddy cat's claws sank into his thigh. "Keeping. Them." House finished. He began to wonder how the nursing staff would react if a certain black kitten went flying through the window at them.

"That works." noted Cuddy.

Chase simply nodded in agreement.

House glanced heavenward. He slowly counted to ten. Then, "What, am I invisible?"

Wilson grinned at Cuddy and Chase. "Did you guys hear something?"

The smiles on their faces turned House's stomach.

"Nope." Chirped Chase and Cuddy.

As the conversation had gone on, House had been dimly aware of the fact that House cat had been yowling like a kitten possessed. He also realized that House cat had stopped suddenly.

_(What the hell?)_ He glanced into the playpen.

The runty, female calico had toddled over to House cat, and had wrapped a tiny foreleg around him. She was quietly licking him on the head.

And the evil little monster was purring!

"There's 'Cameron'." stated Chase.

There was a long pause, the only sound being House cat's rumbling purr, and the faint rasp of Cameron cat's _(Dammit!)_ tongue.

House's gaze focused on his feline counterpart. House cat was grinning a kitty-cat grin; Cameron cat wrapped snugly against him.

"Traitor." he said accusingly.

"You know, you could almost see something Freudian in that." commented Wilson nonchalantly.

"You're fired."

Wilson grinned innocently. "You can't fire me. I don't work for you."

"So, by default, I suppose that makes you 'Foreman'." Cuddy said to the gray tabby.

It just watched her, eyes wide.

Suddenly, House cried. "A-HA!"

The others jumped in surprise.

"What?" asked Chase.

"I **can't** keep them!" he cried happily.

"Why not?"

"Two words. Steve. McQueen."

"What does some old, dead guy have to do with six kittens?" asked Wilson.

"Not **that** Steve McQueen!"

"Who's Steve McQueen?" asked Chase.

House glared at Chase. "Only the coolest guy ever, you fetus. But I wasn't talking about him. I meant my rat."

Cuddy: "What rat?"

"House keeps a pet rat. He was gonna kill it, but he flashed his PETA card, and nursed him back to health instead." Wilson explained.

"Awww; that's so-"

"Shut up, Cuddy."

"Sweet. You're just a big, fluffy, teddy bear: aren't you?" Cuddy finished teasing. Her eyes gleamed devilishly. That glint alone told House he was never going to live this one down.

"Oh, come on!" Argued Chase. "You can still keep them. People have multiple species of pets all the time."

"This is true, but can you imagine being a rat in this situation? You're minding your own business, sound asleep in your little, plastic igloo. Then, you come out to see half a dozen cats staring at you like you have 'Oscar Mayer' tattooed on your ass. Steve McQueen- brave soldier that he is- would shit himself **and** vomit **while** fainting." he finished. He knew he sounded churlish. He could care less.

Seemingly on cue, Cameron and Foreman returned. With a cat carrier. And bags.

That read _Pet Smart_.

Cameron developed deja vu when suddenly:

"**CAMERON, DAMMIT!"**

**: AUTHOR'S NOTES : I was bound and determined to make this chapter longer, and make it okay: here's hoping I achieved my goal. **

**Let me know if any of you have any ideas, suggestions, or requests. I'm having a little drama in trying to figure out what to do next.**

**Read and Review... please please: oh, pretty please?**

**A QUICK KEY TO THE HOUSE CATS:**

**All white, green eyes: House Cat**

**All black, except right ear (White): Cuddy cat**

**Orange Tabby: Chase cat**

**Gray Tabby: Foreman cat**

**Calico: Cameron Cat**

**Brown Brindle: Wilson cat.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**_You're an unreliable, roguish sociopath with a light finger and the attention span of a hyperactive mayfly. _**Stated House's desktop computer.

_(What?)_

_**There's no cunning so low you can't limbo under it, no scam so complex that you can't get your devious, slippery mind around it. You're the con artist with the cheeky grin who detaches widows from their mites and babies from their candy, and yet leaves them laughing. What's the problem? It's all a game, isn't it? Happy Birthday Gemini!**_

House's internet connection had a tendency to spew a random horoscope at him once in a while. At first, he considered just dropping it out the window... until he saw this e-mail. It was just evil enough to win his respect. So, he kept it.

But he damn sure wasn't telling anyone about it.

"Doctor House?"

God, the Ducklings could be so annoying sometimes. Chase and his constant pretty boy ass-kissing, Foreman and his constant bitching,

"Uhm, Doctor House?"

Cameron and her big, doe-eyed, moral high ground... Suddenly, House's mind unwillingly fixated on her silky hair and that pretty mouth of hers...

"House?"

He jerked out of his stupor, and secretly took note to send this nurse an anonymous monetary gift of some sort.

"What?" He snapped.

"Why is there a kitten sprawled on your head... and another in your shirt pocket?" Inquired the tense nurse.

He had developed a secret affinity for House Cat, and decided to train the little monster to be his evil minion. But the second he pulled the kitten out of the playpen, it mewled pitifully, seeming to hate being separated from the others. The other kittens had been eerily silent... except Cameron Cat; who, at an amazingly runty eleven inches from nose to tail, was on her tiny back legs, squeaking sadly. Much to House's chagrin, he quickly deduced what was going on. With a long-suffering sigh, he plucked Cameron Cat from the playpen, and both kittens fell quiet.

_(Wait, is that- oh hell. They're purring. That's just...** evil.**)_

Which is how House Cat came to be sprawled on his head like a corpse, and little Cameron Cat ended up in House's pocket; her tiny face peeking up through the top.

Deciding not to answer the woman, he countered. "What? What do you want? Speak."

All the nurse's facial muscles tightened as she bit back a retort. "You have clinic duty, now."

To the nurse, the look on House's face was like a gift from the Heavens. He actually _grinned._

But, before the nurse could comment on the rare sighting, House managed to limp his way out the door. Pretty speedy for a guy with a screwed up leg.

&&&&&&&

"Is that a _kitty_ in your pocket?" gaped the perfectly healthy five-year-old.

"No. I'm just happy to see you." muttered House. He grimaced. _(Well, that was lame. Even for me.)_

"I swear, Chloe has pneumonia! She sniffled and coughed all the way here! And why do you have kittens? She's allergic!" Whined the overly paranoid mother; whom House referred to as 'Whiny McBitch'.

He turned and eyeballed the child. Snot was flowing freely down her nose like a river. He plucked Cameron Cat out of his pocket, and offered her the furball.

"Hold this for a sec."

The kid grinned like it was Christmas. "Yay!" she shouted. She cuddled and stroked little Cameron like she'd won the lottery.

House cat yowled and dug his tiny claws into House's shoulder, apparently outraged that his girlfriend would be used as a snotrag by a revolting child.

"Hey! Don't-" the mother began.

"Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch." House grunted.

"Excuse me?" gasped Whiny.

House gave her a mildly startled look. "What? Oh, I wasn't talking to _you._ I meant my cat." He took in the woman's raw, red hands, and the odd tinge to her skin.

"You clean _obsessively_ don't you?" he asked, accusingly.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have a hearing problem? You and the kid are all red and gooey because you are overexposing yourselves to cleaning fluids! I mean, geez, not one little sniff from her since she got here. I bet she's lovin' Cameron right now, huh, nose-miner?" he asked the kid.

The girl took no offense to the title, all too happy to play with the fluffy, and now mildly moist- Cameron cat. "Yeah!"

"There ya go." he concluded.

He snatched Cameron back, and tried to refrain from cringing as he felt how slimy she now was. Cameron cat, bless her fuzzy little heart, hadn't made a single bitchy noise the whole time.

House cat, on the other hand...

"MRAOW!!" he roared, and tried to stuff his tiny body into the same pocket, eager to see to the welfare of his beloved.

"Awww, they're in love!" Cooed the child.

"Oh, be quiet." grumped House.

The little girl looked up at him. "What? I didn't say nothin'!"

House blinked, confused.

Behind him, an adult female voice chanted, "House likes his kitt-ens. House likes his kitt-ens!"

_(Oh, God. Kill me now. Seriously, strike me dead, pronto. Or at least smite this gargoyle!)_

He turned, and snidely, he replied. "Yes, oh Unholy Prince- _yes, I said prince-_ of darkness?"

Cuddy just grinned at him.

_(Someone will pay for this.)_ House vowed.

**:: AUTHOR'S NOTES :: TA-DAAA!! Read and Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

As soon as he entered Cuddy's office, House gently- if unceremoniously- dumped the two kittens on Cuddy's couch. He instantly felt about five degrees cooler. Unfortunately, he had about four seconds to bask in it before he realized that Cuddy was talking to him.

_**Oh crap, better look attentive before she-**_

"Are you even listening to me??" she snapped.

_**Well, **__hell._

He grinned sheepishly, and quickly covered it up with his signature sarcasm. "No. You were saying, oh great Mistress?"

Cuddy huffed in exasperation, and jerked her thumb toward her couch, and the two mewling furballs clamoring all over it. "They _can't _leave your office." She all but commanded.

House batted his eyelashes coquettishly. "Why ever not?" He asked innocently. He knew why not, but annoying the Cuddy-nator was pretty much his reason for being.

She simply glowered at him.

"Oh, come on! Don't gimme the ol' Stink Eye. If you didn't want me to cart a couple of the little monsters-"

Said 'monsters' mewled at him, seemingly offended.

"It's a term of affection you irritating little tribbles." He replied. He turned back to Cuddy. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, if you didn't want me totin' the little hellions around, and thus breaking the hospital's 'no pets' policy, you should never have gotten me kittens… unless they were stuffed."

The furry duo squeaked suddenly.

"Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!" he groused.

"I never bought you the kittens, House." Cuddy sneered. "But nice try, though."

House gave a long suffering sigh. "I have a rather burning question for you, anyway."

Merrily, Cuddy replied. "You know, they make ointments for that."

"Har." He smirked. Though, he inwardly applauded. _**Good one, Cuddles.**_

Suddenly, her gaze swung to her couch. "No, God!" She yowled. "Bad Cameron, bad, bad, _**bad**_ Cameron!"

As very kinky, leather-clad images flowed through House's mind, he happily watched Cuddy dive towards her couch. Teeny little Cameron was chewing joyfully through the arm on Cuddy's sofa, while House Cat looked in kitty amusement.

As Cuddy screeched in horror, House watched with smug satisfaction.

Just as she made it to her sofa, Cameron Cat stopped chewing and looked at Cuddy with a patient stare.

Cuddy gave House another foul look. "You taught her that, didn't you?"

He grinned. "Nope, sorry. Though it pains me to admit it, I'm good, but I'm not _**that**_ good."

She walked back over to her desk. House thought he heard her hiss, "Disrespectful son of a…" under her breath. That made him grin wider as she dropped almost tiredly into her chair. She wafted at him with one hand, and pressed the other against a sudden migraine in the top of her skull. "Shoo." She said, motioning to House.

With a completely straight face, he asked. "Is that all, or did you want to spank me first, Mistress Katya?"

House could've sworn the sudden snorting from Cuddy was suppressed laughter, but he actually didn't feel like pushing his luck today. With a shit-eating grin, he scooped up the hairballs. They mewed, happy to be back with their owner, as surly as he was. He left.

&&&&&&

Back in his office, he was both shocked- yet oddly unsurprised- that Wilson and the Ducklings were all there again, playing with the other kittens.

He couldn't resist. "Doesn't this hospital have sick people that need- I don't know- _**doctors??"**_

Used to House's verbal diarrhea, they employed the most effective method at their disposal: they ignored him.

"Oh, hey!" exclaimed Cameron. "Good to see you're actually bonding with your new pets!"

The group just stared at House, fighting the urge to grin stupidly at him.

Startled, he looked at House-Cat and Cameron-Cat. Cameron-Cat had resumed her favorite place in his shirt pocket. House-Cat had ended up riding in the front of his button-down shirt, little forepaws gripping it. They both looked pleased to be adored so.

He snorted. "Yeah, right. Have you noticed how flippin' cold it is in here??"

Wilson snickered.

House sat down with a glower. "What?" he sniped.

"You like them." Commented Chase. He seemed shocked. Foreman-Cat was perched on his shoulder as Chase scratched him absently under his fuzzy chin.

"Shut up! I do not. Go away, you zygote."

Foreman grinned. "Yeah, you like 'em." He had Cuddy-Cat, and she was stretched out on her back, tiny feet splayed in the air as Foreman scratched her belly. House could hear her purring in feline ecstasy.

"Seems to me that you freaks like them more." House sniped.

Wilson actually laughed this time. _**The bastard**_. "You _**are**_ keeping them!" He had Chase-Cat, and was dodging playful kitten nips. On occasion, he'd let Chase-Cat chew on his fingers for a moment or two.

"You bastard." House repeated. His two fuzzy companions had climbed out of his shirt all by themselves and were toddling around on his lap.

"Wow, you are." Cameron said, looking stunned. _**Stunned… Yum… DAMN IT!**_ Cameron had Wilson-Cat, and was scratching at that spot just above his tail that made any cat on earth stick it's butt way up in the air. Wilson-Cat had a look of kitty bliss on his face.

"Mraaaaaaaaooooooow." Whined a voice from House's lap.

He looked down to find his fuzzy alter-ego staring up at him almost expectantly.

"Whaaaaaat?" He whined back.

He then glared at the others. Making a crucifix with his fingers, he bellowed, "Be gone, unholy fiends from hell!"

They all just laughed at him.

_**What the hell?!**_ House thought, worried. _**I can't be losing my touch!**_

"OUT!" He roared, using his I-am-Oz-The-Great-and-Powerful voice.

Mildly intimidated now, the Ducklings fled one by one, each depositing a kitten in the playpen, and each muttering about how they had a patient or two that needed them anyways.

Wilson, however, stayed behind. He sat in the chair, still merrily petting Chase-Cat, who seemed perfectly happy with the situation, and purred like a machine.

He nodded towards House's shirt. "Like the new one." He said, grinning. Under the button-down dress shirt, House was sporting another black t-shirt. With red lettering, this one said, 'My soul was removed to make room for all this sarcasm.'

House grinned like a proud papa. "Thanks."

Wilson smirked. "Not a problem."

**::AUTHOR'S NOTES :: **TA-DA!! I ended it there because I couldn't think of where else to take this chapter. Any ideas are still welcome and appreciated. PLEASE Read and REVIEW! I love the reviews, they are yummy and nutritious.

**:: DISCLAIMER:: **All smart ass t-shirts are courtesy of Hot Topic. And in the previous chapter the zodiac info was courtesy of a book called the "Dark Side Zodiac".


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"No way. You do it." Chickened out Chase.

"I'm not doing it." Whispered Cameron.

"Well, you oughta. You're the one least likely to be killed." Countered Foreman.

"Well, what about Wilson?" Hissed Cameron.

"What **about** Wilson?" Retorted Wilson. "I'm not doin' it. Ladies first!"

"Do I **look** like I have a death wish?" She started to shriek, but it quickly wilted. She flinched, and glanced in the direction of House. The Ducklings and Wilson the Woe-be-gone stood in House's office; in the farthest corner from his desk. They were all staring at House in trepidation, and outright fear.

There lay House, the Great and Terrible, sleeping like the dead on his desk. His head was slumped back in his chair, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and his legs were schlepped over his desk. He really did look like a corpse. It was unnerving.

Although, one could argue otherwise once they heard him snore.

Seemingly on cue, he let one fly with such fervor that the huddled mass jumped in terror.

Foreman shuddered. "Geez, I'm surprised he hasn't swallowed that Nerf ball on his desk yet." He muttered.

Chase started to chuckle, but slapped a hand over his mouth.

Foreman just looked at him. "Sycophant." He accused.

Chase shrugged casually. "I suppose."

From the direction of the desk, a noise erupted like the bellow of a foghorn.

Cameron winced. "Good **Lord."** She rubbed at her ears.

Wilson grinned at her. "And you want to sleep with that."

He and the other men started to giggle. There was no other word for it.

"Well, there's no accounting for taste." Commented Foreman.

The other men shot each other conspiratorial looks.

Cameron glared at them all. "Well, you're one to talk, Chase." She commented demurely.

Wilson and Foreman had to clap their hands over their mouths to keep from roaring with laughter. Cameron and Chase spent the next five minutes in a glaring contest.

From the desk, House snored on, oblivious to their presence.

They hoped.

"Back on track, people." Ordered Wilson.

Cameron smirked. "I'm not doing it."

"You have to!" Whined Chase.

"Hey, if I looked halfway decent in a skirt, I might try it myself. But alas, no can do." Said Foreman.

"Foreman, that's wrong on, like, **nine** different levels." Said Chase. "Thanks for painting that picture." He had a look on his face like he swallowed something gross.

There was a sharp crack as Foreman smacked Chase on the back of the head.

"Dammit, Foreman!" yelped Chase.

"Ssshh!!" hissed Cameron and Wilson.

As one, the four of them snapped towards House, and froze like deer in the headlights.

His head was still tilted back, and on he snored.

There were four almost inaudible sighs of relief.

"Is it just me, or does that man sleep like he's dead?" pondered Foreman.

"He sleeps like he's dead." Answered Wilson.

"Thank God." Sighed Chase.

"No kidding." Whispered Cameron. "Now, what about them?" she motioned to the playpen.

The kittens were still inside. Well, four of them anyway. Cameron-Cat was still tucked in the breast pocket of his button-down shirt. House-Cat was up at the top of House's chest, splayed out in a traditional road-kill position, his tiny white head stretched up to the base of House's throat. Both were sound asleep.

"That's impressive." Noted Chase.

"That's frightening." Whispered Foreman.

"If he keeps them, they'll need every evil power at their disposal, don't you think?" Commented Wilson.

Cameron snorted. "Well, duh…"

The guys looked at her.  
"Duh?" asked Wilson.

She bristled. "Shut up, Wilson. Go find your fifth wife."

"Ooh. Burn! Alright, Cameron." Cheered Foreman almost inaudibly.

Cameron suddenly found herself standing a little taller.

A chorus of unhappy mewls emanated from the playpen.

"What about them?" She asked.

The other four kittens were bounding around in the playpen. Cameron wasn't usually one to anthropomorphize, but the fuzzy quartet looked bored.

Chase-Cat suddenly gave an ear-shattering yowl when Cuddy-Cat started to attempt to chew his little orange ear off, unknowingly cementing Cameron's theory as she leapt to his rescue and picked him up. Keeping an eye on House, she gracefully slid away from the area, not disturbing the apparently narcoleptic doctor. She walked back over to their corner, scratching Chase-Cat on the head and rubbing her finger on his wounded ear. He purred in gratitude.

"Thanks a lot Cameron!" Hissed Foreman.

"What?" she whispered, genuinely puzzled.

"Now that monster's gonna jump our namesakes!" Wilson quietly objected.

Chase just grinned. "Thanks for saving that little one, though."

"Shut up, Chase." Replied Wilson and Foreman.

He did, but he grinned smugly all the while.

They looked at the playpen. Inside, Cuddy-Cat was in full pounce mode, squaring off against little Foreman-Cat and Wilson-Cat. The two males were staring at the pissed off kitten in obvious fear. But, when Cameron caught their gaze, their eyes narrowed. They gave her an angry look.

"Oh, dumb asses." Cameron stated while scratching a relieved Chase-Cat under the chin.

The men just glared at her.

"Why not just pick them up?"

Now they were staring blankly at her.

"Mrrrrrrrrrroooowwwwwwwwww….." growled Cuddy-Cat evilly. She was being surprisingly aggressive. Kitty PMS?

Foreman-Cat and Wilson-Cat backed into the farthest corners of the playpen. Their eyes widened in an obvious _oh, shit!_ expression.

As quietly as possible, Wilson and Foreman snuck around House and picked up each of their fuzzy counterparts.

Each kitten practically burrowed into the necks of the two men. You could almost hear the "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

From within the playpen, Cuddy-Cat in all her black-furred, evil glory, growled demonically with the promise of unholy wrath.

"What's up with her?" asked Chase.

"She's probably bored out of her little mind." Theorized Cameron.

"Well, I'm not touching her." He replied. "I'd probably lose a finger if I touched her right now."

Wilson sighed. "Which leads us back to our current problem…"

There was a long silence.

"Not a chance. You do it." Chickened out Chase.

"I'm **not** doing it." Reiterated Cameron.

"Cameron, you are the only person who can mouth off to him and not lose their tongue." Noted Foreman.

**One Hour Ago…**

_Cameron, Chase, Foreman, and Wilson all stood in Cuddy's office, and stared at each other. They were surprised, they had never been summoned to the Principal's Office all at once before- at least, not without House. Usually it was his fault in the first place._

_Foreman scowled. "What did House do now?"_

_"And why are we being punished for it?" Flinched Chase._

_"How should I know?" griped Wilson. "I'm not House's personal butt-monkey! Wait till Cuddy gets here and ask her yourself."_

_Speak of the she-devil, in walked Cuddy. As was her style, she was wearing yet another godawful, brightly colored skirt suit that was so tight, Cameron thought she could see the woman's pubic bone. Yech. "Why are we here?" she demanded. "Contrary to popular opinion. We aren't just House's puppets. We have patients, too."_

_"You'll note her use of the words "aren't just". Ma'am." Brown-nosed Chase._

_Cameron rolled her eyes when Cuddy's back was turned._

_Suddenly, she snapped around to the group. The woman had the posture of a WWII general. "You four have an… errand… to run for me." She purred sweetly. This was never a good sign._

_They all just looked at The Boss. _

_"I want you to make House come to a decision about his new- ah- companions."_

_"Beg pardon?" asked Wilson._

_"You heard me."_

_"Uh… What?" asked Chase._

_"What he said." Commented Foreman._

_"Why us?" bitched Cameron._

_Cuddy grinned. "Why you? Why not?"_

_Unable to argue with that iron-clad logic, the four wayward doctors trudged unhappily to their doom- uh- House's office._

_And there was the Big Man, asnooze in his chair._

**Back to Now…**

They had been arguing for over an hour as to how to deal with House.

Especially when they took a closer look at him. It was easy to make out the words on House's blue t-shirt, even under House-Cat's fuzzy little butt. In blue and white letters, it said ominously, _The only reason you exist is because I let you._

Perched on House's desk, right next to his feet, was a bold, red cardboard sign that said, _Wake me at your own peril._

Wilson the Woe-be-gone and the Ducklings all froze in terror again.

"You do it!" bitched Cameron. "You're his best friend."

"I'm his **only** friend." Countered Wilson. "You do it. All you have to do is take your top off and he's your slave."

"Did you just- hey, where's Chase?"

Foreman looked around and growled, "That little wuss…"

"I'll ro-sham-bo ya for it." Grinned Cameron.

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!" Griped Wilson.

Foreman sighed. "Why don't we do it together?"

They squeezed together like the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly Lion. What they didn't know as they inched forward was that they were all thinking the same thing: _Maybe since I'm holding a kitten, I'll get to live to see dawn._

They inched forward together, and as one, they reached out to House's uninjured left leg, and poked.

**:: NOTES :: Heh, bet you didn't think I'd end it there, huh? But, I did. Cuz I'm mean… and totally OUT of ideas. If you guys have any ideas or requests, lemme know, I'm completely TAPPED out here! Also, if you do- you will get credit- just ask mishy-mo! Anyways, I also have a House Cats poll going, FYI. Plus, uhm, read and review? Please, please, pretty please? I lurv them so much!**

**:: Disclaimer :: The t-shirts, as always, are creations of a store called Hot Topic. Bless their evil little hearts.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

House, having just chased Wilson and the Ducklings out of his office not ten minutes earlier, was exasperated to walk out the door and see Cuddy clippity-clopping her hooves his way.

Hands on her ample birthing hips, she stopped two feet from House and glowered annoyingly at him. "Well?" she snapped.

He looked at her.

"House!" She yowled.

"Whaaaaaaaat?" He yowled back. "What the hell do you want to do me now, oh Evil One?" He snapped.

"The kittens." She barked at him. "What are you going to do about the kittens?"

He blinked at her, genuinely puzzled. "Wait, why do you…" He trailed off as he had one of his epiphanies. "It was you!" He accused. "You inflicted the little monsters on me!"

"Nice try." She replied coolly. "But it wasn't me."

He looked at her like he wanted to put a big, red "K" on her bosom. "Liar!" he bellowed.

She couldn't look less interested. "House," she countered "Why on God's green earth would I hand a defenseless little kitten- let alone _six_ of them- over to a lunatic like you?" she reasoned.

She watched him seem to honestly ponder the idea. "You have an interesting point." He admitted sheepishly.

She grinned. "Can I get that in writing?"

He snorted. "Keep dreamin'! Your ego needs about as much inflating as _mine_ does."

Since no one important was watching, House and Cuddy laughed. What the rest of the hospital didn't know was that House and Cuddy actually didn't mind getting into bitch-fights with each other. It was like their hobby. Of course, if their secret tentative friendship was revealed to hospital, everyone would immediately assume that the two of them were playing Bed Sheet Bingo. Which was gross. They thought of each other as the annoying sibling that the other never wanted. House shuddered at the image of Cuddy naked.

She gave him a quizzical look. "What's with the squirming? Don't tell me you're actually scared of little ol' moi?" she purred innocently, batting her eyelashes playfully.

House snorted again. "Uh-huh. Sure. So, how is the view from your planet?" he sniped.

Cuddy chuckled.

House continued. "I was suddenly filled with the horror of what you might be like in the sack." He explained.

Cuddy winced in horror. "Me? And _you?_"

"Well, you know what'll happen if people found out-"

A nurse walked by.

"I don't have to take orders from you- you rampant man-goblin!" House yelled at Cuddy.

"Cram it up your ass, you peg-legged Hendrix wannabe!" Cuddy roared in reply.

The nurse disappeared around a corner.

"So, as I was saying. If people found out we were actually, and I shudder to use the word-" House said with a shudder.

"Amicable?" supplied Cuddy.

"Yeah. If people knew that about us, they'd automatically think we were… were…" House couldn't say it, it tasted like shit in his mouth.

And judging by the look on Cuddy's face, the thought made her sick, too. "No offense House-"

"Since when?"

She rolled her eyes and continued, "But the very thought of you sticking your tongue in my mouth makes me want to gargle with Drano." She groaned in obvious nausea.

His stomach lurched at the thought, too. "Not a problem, Cuddles."

She started to tell him not to call her that, but that would likely guarantee that would be her nickname for all eternity. She sighed, and tried not grin as she pushed past him into his office.

House stood where he was, slowly counting. "Three… two… one…"

On cue, "**HOUSE!**" Bellowed Cuddy. She stomped out of his and glared at him.

He gave her his most angelic and beatific smile. "Yes?" he purred sweetly.

"Where are they?!" she shrieked.

"To whom are you referring?"

She hissed through her clenched teeth. "Where. Are. The. Kittens…"

"They're gone?"

All during their conversation, Cuddy had failed to do one thing: look down. Had she done that, she might have seen the six little kittens toddling quietly, yet blatantly, past her. They were off to wreak havoc on the third floor of Princeton-Plainsboro. Well, except for one of the kittens. Even House failed to notice the extra small calico kitten that disappeared into the elevator, headed for parts unknown.

"Here's hoping they impress me." House muttered.

"What?"

"I _said_, you're so hoping to undress me!" He replied, he added a leer for good measure.

Cuddy rolled her eyes, and grabbed the nearest phone to spread the word: The House-Cats were on the loose!

"God help us all." Cuddy muttered bleakly.

House grinned with pride.

**:: AUTHOR'S NOTES :: Yeah, I know this was a MEGA short chapter, but I didn't feel that this chapter was done here, so I can focus the next one on kitten antics. ALSO, anyone have any ideas for kitten shenanigans? Angel-Elizabeth already determined what Cameron-Cats are doing, but the others are still open for suggestions. Read and REVIEW for the love of Pete!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The staff of Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital was, understandably, rigid with tension. Cuddy had sent out a red alert: House's six fuzzy minions had escaped his office. Or so, that was the official story. But, everyone knew better. House, the sociopath, had probably set them loose. Granted, he'd only had them for a couple of hours, but the staff bitterly realized that that was likely more than enough time to bring them over to the Dark side. Every staff member, from top neurosurgeon to lowly janitor, was suddenly jumping at the slightest noise.

Good God, they were screwed.

&&&&&&&&

_**Ladies Showers**_

As Nurse Black strode miserably into the showers, she fumed.

No, literally, she **fumed.** Some disgusting, flu-addled preschooler blew his cookies on her. Not on the floor near her, and **God forbid** he make it to the emesis basin. He blew chunks **on her.** She reeked. The stink was unbelievable.

She collected clean scrubs and her toiletries out of her locker, grabbed a clean towel and set her things up next to her shower stall.

She looked around. Seeing that she was alone, she gleefully tore off her smelly and somewhat soggy scrubs. She stood there for a moment, not caring about her nudity, and basked in the stink-free moment before turning on the shower and climbing in.

Sighing in relief, she began to scrub, eager to be rid of the unpleasant perfume.

Suddenly, she felt a slight weight press against her left ankle. She kicked it away, assuming it was just a stray soap bar. However, as her foot made impact, she was surprised to hear the "soap bar" give a startled squeak.

She leapt into the air, soapy and startled, yelling, "_Rat!_"

"Mew?" She heard.

"What the hell?" She growled, looking down.

At her feet was a soaked orange tabby kitten. It looked up at her miserably, shaking its tiny, dripping paws.

"What the _hell?_" She yelled again. Then she noticed a collar dangling from its neck. Nurse Black scooped up the kitten, and it yipped unhappily. It didn't seem to like the fact that she was wet, too. "Deal with it." She grumbled, inspecting the collar.

_Chase._ Said the front. She flipped it over, and only had to read the name of Chase's owner before being filled with an all-encompassing fury.

_Gregory House._

She then bellowed so loudly that the kitten mewled in startled fright.

"_**House!!**_"

&&&&&&&&

_**Sleep Therapy**_

Doctor David North was irritated, but made sure not to show it to the anxious mother wringing her hands before him. Her eight year old son had night terrors, a common affliction among children, something that almost always resolved itself with time. But noooooo, the mother would hear nothing of it. The family was rich. _**Disgustingly**_ so. So, Cuddy had pretty much told Doctor North to let the overbearing lunatic do as she pleased to young Herbert III. Which was why they had just spent the last three hours watching little Bert sleep calmly, with no trace of disturbance.

"But there's something _**wrong**_ with him!" She yowled shrilly.

Doctor North tried not to roll his eyes. _There's always something "wrong" with them._ He thought irritably.

"Ma'am, as I've said, it's time to wake up your son. And perhaps it's time to accept the fact that the problem may pass on it's own in good time."

She huffed in exasperation, but said no more. As he walked past the madwoman, he smiled. He was secretly pleased to have some damned peace and quiet. Which didn't last.

"Can't we-"

_She means __**me.**_

"Run more tests?" She whined.

_Agh! Rich people!_ Doctor North suddenly felt pain bloom behind his eyes as a migraine suddenly reared its insidious head. He entered the quiet room, flipping on the light.

"Hello, Bert, its Doctor North- time to rise and- what the fuuuuuu..." He glanced at the drowsy child and managed to replace the almost-expletive with a cough. _What the hell?! How in the hell did that get in here?_

Purring sedately in little Bert's arms was a little gray tabby kitten.

"What the hell is that?" Yelped the mother.

Clenching his teeth, he managed to sound civil when he said, "Well, it appears to be a kitten, ma'am." _I managed not to cuss around your son, why couldn't you?_ He scooped it up, ignoring the protests of little Bert, and examined the collar. _Foreman._ Said the front. He immediately knew who it belonged to- Cuddy had put out a colorful enough alert.

The mother gave another arrogant huff. "Well, what am I supposed to do about little Herbie's insomnia?"

The migraine behind Doctor North's eyes suddenly spread to his temples and the back of his neck. He decided to take a page from Doctor House's playbook. Still maintaining his outward composure, he scrawled out a prescription, and gave it to the mother. He began to scratch little Foreman behind the ears. The kitten purred appreciatively.

"'One puppy or kitten, patient's choice.'" She read. "What the hell does this mean?"

"It means, madam, take your son to the damned pet store, and stop wasting my time." Then he strode out the room, little Foreman tucked under his arm. He smiled as he headed towards Cuddy's office. He grinned. His migraine was gone.

House was such a bad influence on people.

&&&&&&&&

**Research Lab**

Doctor Jeannette Winston tore into her lab, furious. She had just spent several hours being laughed at by a group of tubby, balding, snooty board members. How dare they? She had proposed a five year research study for a new anti-psychotic medication for the treatment of schizophrenia in the eighteen to twenty-one age group. It was a sound study. She was only going to run it on the fifty rats she had collected for the study. The drug was so new; she wanted to ensure that there were no truly serious side effects before the prescriptions started flying off the shelves. But noooooo, they dumped all over her idea. God _forbid_ a few young lives are safeguarded! They tossed her plans because they wanted to dump all the funding into another damned male enhancement drug! Those _**evil**_, sanctimonious, flaccid-

Doctor Winston growled in a surge of pure, animal rage, and then froze.

The growls weren't coming from her.

She snuck around, opening cabinets, peering under desks. All the while, she could hear the almost demonic growling. And it was only feeding her own anger. What odious creature dared to infiltrate her territory?!

That's when she noticed the area she affectionately referred to as "The Rat Wall." Ten extra large, glass cages containing five rats each. Doctor Winston always had a soft spot for the creatures, so each cage had all the trimmings. Extra food and water supplies, gourmet treats, loads of exercise gizmos and toys. The works. Doctor Winston figured that it was least she could do, so she paid out of pocket for most of it. Usually, the Rat Wall was noisy with activity, but now it was eerily silent. As the creepy growling ensued, Doctor Winston noticed that each of the rats had curled into huddled masses, and were cowering in tight balls in corners.

Anxious to tend to her obviously petrified little charges, Doctor Winston rounded the corner, and encountered the source of their terror. Her anger instantly evaporated, and she began to laugh hysterically at the sight. On the floor below her was a small kitten. It was entirely black, except for one lone, white ear. It glowered up at the Rat Wall, it's fur puffed up, and still it growled. It seemed to be ignoring Doctor Winston.

She strode over to the angry kitten and gently snatched her up. The little kitten still looked pissed off, but Doctor Winston was unimpressed. After the day she'd had, nothing fazed her. She checked the kitten's collar, and noted with a grin that the little hellion's name was _Cuddy._

"Suits you perfectly." She said. The kitten growled at her. She just laughed. "Oh, yeah right!" She remembered the real Cuddy's alert. The furball was one of House's little critters. With an amused smirk, she strode out the door, one angry little kitten-monster tucked under her arm.

&&&&&&&&

**Imaging Lab**

Lab technician Trenton Mathis was bored. Again. Not that he'd ever admit it. He'd sooner drown in a pool of his own vomit.

It was almost embarrassing, how lame his job actually was. At the age of twenty-two, he was fresh out of college and he had a spring in his step which was a symptom of the terrible malady of optimism. He had aspired to be a musician, and his parents had been freakishly accommodating about it. They said they didn't mind if he pursued his dream job- just as long as he had something to fall back on… in case. They'd been so reasonable about it that Trent couldn't argue with their ironclad logic. And so, he'd gotten his degree, and his license, and was now The X-Ray Dude at Princeton-Plainsboro.

Of course, once he'd learned the ins and outs of his job, he'd almost screamed at the sheer horror of it.

Type. Type. Arrange patient. Type. Type. Click.

_Type. Type. Arrange patient. Type. Type. Click._

And if he was a good boy, he could file papers at the end of the day.

Just thinking about all the tuition money that he flushed down the toilet for something he could've learned in about a week made him want to weep.

With a horrified shudder, he turned to the current patient, Katie Morgan, age eighteen. She had fallen at a track meet and twisted her ankle completely around. Luckily, they had the poor kid tanked out on painkillers and valium, so she didn't really care that her toes were facing the wrong way. She was still conscious, but the drugs kept her from really feeling anything, she was a little weirded out, but otherwise fine.

Trenton slid her into position under the machine, careful not to jar her ankle. She was getting an x-ray because, obviously, she was fucked up. But, the doctor wanted to know how badly before they treated her. Surprisingly, injuries like this didn't always necessarily mean a broken bone.

"Now, whatever you do, **don't** move." He ordered the mildly stoned Katie.

She smiled foggily at him. "No duh."

Trenton grinned. He liked the sassy patients; they were so much more amusing than most of the damned whiners that passed through here. He went to the back room.

_Type. Type. Click._ And, voila! He had his film.

He took one look, and had to do a double take. "What the fuuuuuu-" He yelped, and then glanced at the kid. "-uudge?"

Startled, she began to move a little. "What?! Don't yell! I'm freaked out enough!"

"Don't move!" He bellowed. That damned ankle was jacked up enough. He strode out to her, and saw_ it._ Trenton couldn't believe it, but the film was proof enough. Standing next to her foot and delicately licking her injured ankle was a chocolate brown kitten.

"How the hell did a kitten get in here?" He wondered aloud.

"There's a kitten in here?" asked Katie.

"Damn, kid, those must be **some** painkillers. Look at your foot. But **do NOT** move otherwise, or I'll break your other ankle." He warned.

She did as she was told. "Heh. Cool."

Trenton snatched up the kitten, which mewled in surprise.

"Oh, come on. I didn't mind." Katie protested. "Aren't animals supposed to be therapeutic?" She asked innocently.

He snorted. "Not for you. This little guy's got an unhealthy obsession with your foot." He scratched the kitten under the chin, and checked the tag on the little collar. It read, _Wilson._

"So," asked Katie. "Where's he from?"

Without hesitation, Trenton replied, "The scariest doctor in all the land." He motioned to another lab technician to finish with his patient. Cuddy had requested that all the kittens be immediately brought to her office.

Trenton started to whistle happily. Wilson looked up at him curiously. He grinned. "I can honestly say that I'm not bored anymore."

&&&&&&&&

**Pharmacy**

Sheila Tate, pharmacist extraordinaire, had come to the point in her day that her nine year old nephew had christened, "The Rainbow Game"._ (Thanks, in part, to her demonic kid sister brow beating her into taking him on, "Take Your Kid to Work" day. What the hell was Sherry on, anyway?)_ Sheila made a mental note to take more thorough inventory whenever the pain in the ass was over again.

With a sigh and an eye roll, she refocused on the task before her. She didn't blame Stanny for the title; it was like staring at a mountain of evil skittles. As she separated them into their own little pill-piles, she sang quietly to herself.

"Viagra blue, analgesic red, suppository _(Yuck)_ white, Vicoden light blue." She punctuated each by scraping some into their well-labeled jars. In mid-suppository scrape, the phone rang.

"Damn it!" cursed Sheila, sending little white butt-pills flying like nasty snowflakes. She decided to vacuum the little bastards up late, and stormed over to the phone, answering it with an icy, "Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital. Pharmacy. Sheila Tate here."

"Sheila! Where the hell have you been?" It was Sherry.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Sherry! I know being a pharmacist isn't the same as being a "real" doctor, but it's not a fuck-around job either! I need to focus!" Sheila howled.

"Oh, cry me a river. You know, if you would just try to fix yourself up. Even a little bit. You might just be able to get married and have a couple of kids. You might be able to get out of that rat trap before all your eggs dry up. Oh, and by the way, you have to pick Stanny up from school tomorrow."

In that moment, Sheila truly loathed her sister. Sherry would always give her a lecture about how she should drop her job, get married, and crank out a couple of kids. Sherry had married a Harvard grad, corporate lawyer-guy. She was a housewife, supposedly. Though Sheila knew better. Sherry was six feet tall with long legs, wine red hair, and not an ounce of fat on her body. Sherry was Victor's pet. And the trophy-bitch had the stones to lecture her on family values when Sherry constantly dumped her son on Sheila.

Suddenly, Sheila was alerted to the sound of more pills bouncing off the linoleum. "Son of a bitch!" she snarled. But moments before she could round the corner, there was a dull thud followed by an eardrum shattering screech of pain. "Wait a goddamned minute, Sher." She put her sister on hold, and rushed to the source of the noise.

There, in a sea of light blue Vicoden pills, was a little white kitten. It mewled pitifully, and favored its left foreleg. Gently, she scooped up the kitten, and it growled at her. She smirked. "Sorry. You look like you belong on a Hallmark card. I'm not intimidated."

The kitten went quiet. It seemed crestfallen.

She checked its leg first. The only thing that she could figure is that the big plastic bottle of Vicoden bounced off its leg. Not a big deal by people standards, but for a four or five pound kitten? That might sting a little. It wiggled its leg, and mewled unhappily. The leg looked a bit swollen, but if it could move it, it wasn't likely broken.

She grinned. "Well, if you're bitchy, you can't be too hurt."

It made a noise that sounded a lot like _hmph._

She chuckled, and checked its collar. _House_. "Cool." She murmured. She had heard Cuddy's alert, too, and had been secretly pleased. She liked Doctor House, and his legendary antics were good for a laugh. When no one else was around, he often talked to her about his joyous hobby torturing the other staff members. They actually got along well… probably because she was _technically_ his dealer, but hey, why quibble?

She made her way back to the phone. Picking it up, she started to say, "Sherry." But was cut off by her sister's shrill nagging.

"Sheila, you have a responsibility to your family!"  
That evil cow. "So do you, you fucking gold-digging mooch! I'm not your kid's mother!"

"Mraow!!" agreed House. Loudly, too.

"What the hell was that?" Sherry yelled.

"My cat, Sherry. My cat. I'm going to be one of those crazy cat ladies, and I got my first one- and he's hairless too!" The hairless ones always freaked her sister out.

"Mraow?" little House suddenly seemed alarmed

Sherry shrieked in horror.

With a malicious laugh, she hung up. House looked up at her, licking his injured paw thoughtfully. Each swipe of his tongue resulted in an irritated mew. He held eye contact with Sheila the entire time.

"Oh, right! The hairless cat thing."

"Mew."

"Don't worry, I didn't mean you."

"Mew?"

"I promise. Although, this does mean that I have to buy a hairless cat." Sheila shrugged. "Good thing I think that they're cute."

&&&&&&&&

**Cuddy's Office**

"Five out of six? That's the best I get?" yelled Cuddy.

The quintet before her flinched, and then bristled when they remembered that it wasn't _their_ fault.

Cuddy had to admit, the motley crew that stood before her was completely unexpected. She wondered how the kittens had gotten past each of them.

David North, sleep expert, was usually a very introverted man. He was usually so expressionless that Cuddy strongly suspected a past life as the head Borg. She also figured that he probably had some lovely bleeding ulcers in his future. But there he was, smiling like he'd won the lottery with little Foreman tucked under his arm.

Nurse Black was in a strange state. Dripping wet, she stood before Cuddy in soapy scrubs, a furious look on her face as she shivered. She held an equally soggy Chase-cat in her arms. He looked just as annoyed as her.

Trenton Mathis was a lab technician who could easily pass for an eighteen year old skater boy, but he used it as a mask. He was a wildly intelligent young man. The combination made him like a Venus flytrap. People were lured in by his pretty face- then _snap!_ Dinner was served. That was one of the main reasons that Cuddy hired him, though he was really a good natured kid. Now, how in the _hell _had the furry Wilson gotten into the fortress of the labs? Nothing could get in there!

Cuddy was also surprised to see her furry namesake being held in the arms of researcher Doctor Jeannette Winston. She was the most anti-social employee in the place. She made House look balanced! It was also surprising because she had the most isolated lab and office in the building. How'd little Cuddy end up there? Doctor Cuddy noted with quiet amusement that the two had identical expressions of outraged fury.

Finally, she was _not_ surprised to see little House in the arms of Sheila Tate, the only pharmacist in the hospital who seemed to tolerate Doctor House. Little House had an unusually swollen foreleg, and he kept licking it, a seemingly irritated look on his fluffy face. The kitten had likely wandered her way, and injured its leg in the line of duty. He was a lot like his namesake, apparently. Cuddy knew for a fact that the real House usually stopped and talked with Sheila when he thought no one was around. Cuddy eyed the tall, willowy redhead. She figured he was motivated by lust, but wisely kept her mouth shut. She was the only one who knew about it; not even Wilson was in that loop! And it was going to stay that way, too. If anyone else knew, House would toss Sheila like a bad habit. House actually made a friend, and Cuddy was going to keep it that way.

"Uhm, Doctor Cuddy?" began Doctor North. "Do I truly need to point out that our involvement is purely incidental?" he asked. He was still smiling. It was still strange.

Doctor Cuddy gave a frustrated, and resigned sigh. She looked at each staff member in turn. "All right. You're right. I apologize." She smiled wanly at them. "I'm sure you all know how much Doctor House, uhm, _irks_ me."

The little group grinned. Sheila Tate had to fight a snort. House regularly told her of his dastardly plans.

Cuddy crossed her arms under her chest. She had a strange look on her face.

After a pregnant pause, Trenton cracked first. "So, Doc Cuddy, what now?"

She looked irritated. "There's still one missing."

Doctor Winston spoke up first. "Little Cameron, right?" she asked with a mild sneer.

"Oh, yeah." Grumped Cuddy. "With my luck, she'll turn up in the most inconvenient-"

_Riiip._

Everyone looked around. "What the hell was that?" asked Doctor North.

Cuddy looked around. "I have no idea."

_Riiip._ Again!

"Where's it coming from?" Asked Sheila.

They all kept looking around. Where _was_ that tearing noise coming from?

_Riiip. Riiip. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!_

Slowly, as though in a horror movie, Cuddy turned toward one of the filing cabinets. The ruckus was coming from a black filing cabinet in the back corner. It was _the_ filing cabinet. If the hospital were to burst into flames, it was the one that Cuddy would develop Herculean strength for, just to toss it out her window.

It was the filing cabinet that held hospital funding information.

And there was something **inside it!**

With a terrified shriek, she lunged to the filing cabinet, and unlocked it. Ripping the drawers open, she peered inside, and nearly fainted.

Files were shredded to bits, and there was the distinct odor of urine among the chaos.

And there, sitting atop the mess, was Cameron-Cat. With a mangled file clamped in her jaws.

Cuddy purpled with rage.

**"HOUSE!!"**

**:: Author's Notes :: Boo. Yah. It took a long time to do this one. Hope you all like it. Though, it may be getting close to the end of the story. Sigh. ANYWHO, Read and Review!! Pretty please??**

**:: Special Thanks :: Angel-Elizabeth, obsessedwithstabler, Henrika, Mix-Me-A-Martini, SnowFox3, and Sans Amoure AKA SA. You all tossed ideas my way, and they rocked so I tried to meet the requests. Hope I did. Plus, if I forgot to mention anyone, sorry. I'm not a bitch, just a ditz!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

In the morgue of Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital sat Doctor Gregory House. He was parked in front of Cabinet C6, better known to House as, "Greg's Deli." As he merrily smeared mayonnaise onto his turkey and swiss, he turned and sat next to, "Edelstein, Robert Sean."

"So, am I brilliant, or am I brilliant?" he asked.

Having died from sticking a fork into his toaster to pry out a bagel, "Edelstein, Robert Sean" was rather unable to answer House.

"Oh, what do you know?" he huffed. "Considering your situation, a trained poodle is brilliant by comparison."

Mr. Edelstein lay there, possibly in quiet protest over having to spend his death being disparaged so.

"Shut up." House grumped. Suddenly, his beeper went off. He grinned, he could almost hear the wrath in those innocent little tones. She'd finally caught on, and now it was time for his spanking.

"Later, dead guy. Bessie- I mean, **bossy**- I mean, **boss lady** summons." He inhaled the rest of his sandwich like a python with a guinea pig, closed the door on his secret stash, and left for Cuddy's office, whistling merrily to himself.

&

**Cuddy's Office…**

From within the sterile beige pet carrier on Cuddy's desk, half a dozen tiny voices mewled unhappily. Cuddy glared at House as he ambled in.

"Geez, Cuddzilla, somebody might think you're pissed or something." Chirped House.

If looks could kill, House would've melted like a nazi in "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Mere mortals would've trembled at the sight of Cuddy's enraged, but House was no mere mortal. He didn't give a chinchilla's hairy anal cavity about rules. In fact…

"Good God Cuddy, where do you shop for suits? "Atlantic City Senior Hookers Emporium"?" he asked, eyeing the mint green suit she wore to work. Where the **hell** did she shop anyway? Almost every time House saw her, she was wearing a blinding Easter pastel skirt suit. It was enough to make a guy's retinas fuse.

Cuddy took a deep breath and maintained her outer calm. She knew House would be pushing her buttons soon enough. "Take. Them. Home." She snarled through clenched teeth. "**Now.**"

He grinned wider. "Sorry, I still have-" He glanced at his bare wrist. "-about five more hours until my shift ends. At least, according to my watch."

Cuddy hissed in frustration, and pointed to the door.

With another atypical shit-eating grin, House snatched up the pet carrier and hobble-skipped out the door.

&

**Wilson's Office, 5 Minutes Later…**

"Well, what'd you expect- the hospital **does** have a strict "no pets" policy, and you **did** set them loose in the building, and they **did** run amok." Wilson pointed out helpfully, if uselessly. The man had a gift for stating the obvious.

House propped his bad leg up on the office chair, and smirked. Oddly enough, the bulky cat carrier was still in his lap, as though it were a trophy. Wilson knew that although House would never admit it, the man liked animals. **People**, on the other hand… "Oh, come on!" he cried. "You should have seen the look on her face while she screamed at me. Apparently, fluffy Little Cameron did Number Onesie on the funding documentation." He chuckled.

Wilson noticed that House was regaling his story to him with obvious pride in his voice. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut. Which he was capable of doing, when the occasion suited him.

House continued to ramble happily. "I saw a new vein on her forehead, too! I wonder how close she was to hurling Little Cameron out the window." He pondered aloud.

Wilson had a question of his own. "Wait, the big, black, **locked** filing cabinet? How in the **hell** did that happen?"

House glanced at Wilson's closed door. "Well…" he started.

"Well, what?"

"Nevermind." House replied, and opened the carrier door.

"**House!!**" Screeched Wilson. "**What. The**. _**HELL!!"**_

"Unleash the hellions! Fly, my pretties!" He cackled.

The kittens, still inside the carrier, didn't move, and simply eyed him warily- or in House-Cat's case, irritably.

"Well, in that case." House unceremoniously dumped them out onto his lap, secretly making sure they landed safely. He liked animals fine, there was no bullshit in their world. They were what they were, to hell with everyone else's opinion.

Plus; no back-talk!

Ironically, they landed in a dog pile across his lap, giving startled screeches. House did a quick inventory. House-Cat was **(Ew)** tending to Cameron-Cat, Foreman and Chase-Cat were blinking in stunned shock, Cuddy-Cat was glaring pure fire at him, and-

"Hey, where's mini-me?" asked Wilson.

House eyed the shell-shocked mound. Aha! Like the witch from the "Wizard of Oz", all House could see were two fuzzy hind legs poking out from under the bewildered Chase and Foreman-Cat.

"House! Get them off before they squish the little guy!"

House shrugged nonchalantly, and put Chase and Foreman-

"My rug!" bemoaned Wilson.

"Are you never satisfied?" Then he answered his own question. "Oh, wait, considering I can tell how old you are by the rings on your finger, I guess not." He inspected Wilson-Cat. The little chocolate colored kitten lay there limply. House could tell that the kitten was generally fine, but if this were a cartoon, little birdies would be flying circles around the kitten's head.

Wilson-Cat gave House a dazed look. He managed a feeble _prrrp_. It was almost like the little guy was saying, "What the hell was that about?"

"Oh, you're fine."

"No he's not!" snapped Wilson. He walked over and delicately scooped up the kitten.

House regarded his friend sourly as Wilson cuddled the kitten to his chest. Sure, he liked Wilson just fine, but this mother hen crap was annoying. He'd worked with toddlers too long, a little bump on the head was catastrophic. He eyed Wilson as his friend made disgusting cooing noises at the kitten. When had ol' Jimbo turned into a woman? Even Wilson-Cat was started to look annoyed. That alone spoke volumes.

House snatched up the kittens one by one and gently stuffed them into the carrier. At last, he scooped Wilson-Cat out of the sulking doctor's arms.

"House!" whined Wilson. "Where are you going?"

"James, my boy, I am off to continue my reign of terror!" He cackled evilly. "Call me when you've finished your gender reassignment surgery!"

**: A/N : Yep, I'm stuck. AGAIN. ARGH! I feel like that chapter kinda sucked a little, what do you guys think? I may have to end the story in a couple more chapters, I'm running out of stuff to do!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Final Chapter!**

House stared at the six little faces in the plastic playpen, and the aforementioned faces stared back at him. The seven of them surveyed each other in obvious trepidation.

"What the _hell_ am I supposed to do?" he asked the kittens.

They just looked up at him. A couple of them even _prrp_ed at him.

"Oh, don't help!" he bitched. Luckily, House was alone. The whole hospital already thought that he was totally warped. Catching him talking to the kittens would have been the cherry on the certifiable sundae. Making everyone uncomfortable was good for a giggle, but House couldn't have anyone advancing with the straightjackets, oh no.

With a sigh, he looked down at the litter. "Well, I suppose your work today earned you all a reprieve. Creative little bastards." He admitted grudgingly.

In the playpen, House Cat hissed at him in offense.

"Oh, shut up. It was a compliment."

The surly ball of white fluff flicked his tail, and narrowed his eyes, as though saying, "Yeah, right!" The others- even Cuddy Cat- gathered around him. It had become obvious that House Cat was in charge. House perked up a little at the sight. He ambled over to the cat carrier, and one by one, started to load up the little hellions. "Maybe this won't suck so bad." He muttered.

Chase Cat went in quietly.

Foreman Cat squawked, but complied. "S.S.D.D."

Wilson Cat also behaved. "Not news."

He started to load Cuddy Cat, but froze when he heard three terrified screeches from within the carrier. He peered in to find the boys squeezed into the back, wide eyed. Little Chase was pawing at his ear maniacally, as though in the throws of Gulf War syndrome. Come to think of it, he had noticed that the little orange tabby's left ear was puffy and swollen right after he'd chased the other doctors out of his office.

He looked at Cuddy Cat, who just stared back at him. She even purred a little, that wasn't a good sign. With a sigh, he stuck Cuddy back in the playpen. He picked up House Cat, who promptly nipped him on the fingers and glared.

House glared back, instantly realizing the problem. He picked up Cameron Cat, and House Cat went quiet. With a growl of frustration, he schlepped the two kittens into the carrier. He could hear purring from within.

Now growling angrily himself, House barely noticed when Cuddy Cat raked her claws through his left hand. He just dumped her into the carrier; his blood dripping just enough to make an evil Rorschach test on his office carpet.

&*&*&*&*&*&

As the five doctors huddled in House's conference room, they breathed a united sigh of relief while watching that angry _chore_ of a man load the cat carrier into his car and drive away.

"Wow!" Cuddy mused. "I didn't think he'd take 'em!"

"House has no problems with some animals. _People_, on the other hand…" Since everyone knew the answer, he didn't bother finishing.

Everyone in the room gave Wilson a sidelong look. There was a long pause.

Foreman cracked first. "Did you…"

"Buy House Cat and Foreman Cat? Yeah." He admitted sheepishly.

"No way!" gasped Cuddy. "I found little Wilson!"

"Sadly, I actually bought little Cameron." Whispered Doctor Cameron. Her cheeks were bright red.

"I got Chase Cat." Confessed Foreman.

"And yes, I bloody well bought Cuddy." Groused Chase almost cheerily.

"How in the _hell_ did we all have the same idea?" asked Foreman. No one knew if he was being rhetorical or not.

Cuddy, on the other hand… "The dumbass sits around all day with his music- and I don't just mean at home. I thought he could use the company of _something_... Aside from the bacteria he gets from the hookers…"

"I'm just shocked we all had the same idea." Commented Wilson.

"You bought him two!" accused Chase.

Wilson laughed. "Oh, come on! Just because I bought him a pet-"

"Or two!" Reiterated Chase.

"Doesn't mean I'm dumb enough to leave an innocent kitten _alone_ with him. The little ones need back-up!"

The other doctors actually spoke as one. "Touché."

"So, how bad do you think it's going to get?" blurted Cameron. "I mean, we're now going against House; with sidekicks!"  
There was another long pause as the horror of what they had unleashed began to sink in.

Cuddy sank numbly into a chair. "Dear Jesus…" she gasped. "We're doomed."

_**The End!**_

**READ AND REVIEW! I lurv reviews!**

**:: NOTE :: For future reference, any story in the House section with my name on it, WILL involve the House Cats!**


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